


Woo Me

by macerrs



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:26:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macerrs/pseuds/macerrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Aramis is known for being smooth, but when he finally decides to take a shot at wooing Porthos, all this skills leave him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Woo Me

Porthos took a swig of his drink. The tavern was full and bustling, as usual. He took a glance about the room, noticing some potential trouble brewing in the corner of the room with some younger men playing a game of cards with the barmaid. But Porthos shrugged to himself and took another swig. He was off duty tonight. Although, as Athos would say, “We’re never off duty,” to which Aramis would reply, “Tell that to yourself. Didn’t you drink yourself into a stupor three nights in a row? Or was that some other Athos I know...?”

Think of the devil and then he appears, Porthos thought, smiling at Aramis as he weaved through the chaos to arrive at his table, drinks in hand.

“You do know that I already have a drink, Aramis.”

Aramis grinned, dropping into the seat next to Porthos. “I do indeed. Have another.”

He turned slightly and Porthos saw the slight scar on his neck. He reached out and touched it lightly.

“When you saved the Queen.” Not a question, just a statement of fact.

Porthos’ eyes met Aramis’ over the half empty mugs and Aramis’ eyes got soft, as they did when he saw a pretty woman.

“Don’t give me The Stare, Aramis. Save that for your Queen.”

“She’s our Queen, Porthos, and I’m not giving you The Stare. No such thing exists,” said Aramis, smiling but his eyes lingering on Porthos’ face.

Porthos shrugged in response. Aramis cocked his head slightly, continuing to gaze at his friend seated next to him. “You know, Porthos, you’re a very handsome man.”

Porthos chuckled. “You can tell any man they’re handsome, but the key is making them believe it, isn’t that right?”

Smiling, Aramis shook his head and said, “You know all my lines. But it’s true.”

“Isn’t that just another line?”

“No.”

“Was that not also another line?”

“What, my answer of ‘no’? Porthos, please,” Aramis said, laughing.

“Yes.”

Continuing to laugh, Aramis asked, “Yes, what?”

“I don’t know anymore, you’ve confused me to hell,” Porthos said, holding back a laugh.

Several hours later and a half dozen (or a dozen, it wasn’t easy to remember) drinks down, Aramis and Porthos exited the tavern, Aramis’ arm wrapped around Porthos’ shoulders.

Ending up in front of their lodgings, Porthos untangled himself from Aramis and raised his hand in goodbye. But Aramis leaned in and murmured softly, “It wasn’t one of my lines, Porthos.”

But Porthos merely laughed and pushed him back. “See you in the morn, Aramis.”


End file.
